


A Master of Dreams

by Ailinaline



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Probably ooc, just a fairy-tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:43:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailinaline/pseuds/Ailinaline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No trap could be compared to a trap of one’s own imagination, and Voldemort is aware of it, rest assured. Harry Potter is locked in a nightmare, created by the Dark Lord. However, Voldemort doesn’t know there is a Master of Dreams in Hogwarts...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Master of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I claim nothing, save the right to dream. I get nothing, save some pleasure from this process.
> 
> WARNING: English is not my first language, though I do my best to make my texts comprehensible. ;)
> 
> NOTE: _Italic_ means Severus Snape's… uh… well… remarks and charms, so to say, /two slashes/ indicate his "non-magic" thoughts, and *two small* mean Harry Potter's own ideas and reactions. I am truly sorry for using so many signs!

Severus Snape, a Potions Master, could have bragged of a rich collection of atypical awakenings; however it was the first time in his life, when he woke up because a phoenix was prancing on him. Having noticed that the Potion Master had opened his eyes, Fawkes ceased running all over his chest and began to clap its wings, obviously concerned.

"What is the matter?"

Certainly, the wonderful creature did not answer; instead, its beak seized a lock of the professor's hair and pulled, hinting clearly that it was necessary to get up urgently and to rush somewhere. Again.

Snape shook his head, getting rid of a slight fog of the Dreamless Sleep Potion, muttered something highly uncomplimentary about Merlin's beard, cautiously removed the phoenix from himself and got out from under his blanket.

Trousers - a shirt - shoes - a robe and a little of cold water. The same collection of atypical awakenings allowed him to manage everything within one minute and a half. Fawkes soared up and flew by him, having touched his temple with its soft feathers.

"Well, where to?.."

In the hospital wing he was met by madam Pomfrey, however Snape received no explanations from her because as soon as she spoke his name anxiously, the Headmaster's voice carried out from behind a half-opened door of one of the chambers, as if echoing her exclamation - "Severus!"

In the chamber, besides Dumbledore, there was… well, certainly… the Greatest Treasure of Hogwarts. Some accident on the training, the Gryffindors discussed it... But in fact madam Pomfrey had already stated that a trauma was minor…

"Severus, what took you so long?" Dumbledore looked up at the Potions Master atop of his glasses. "Has anything happened?"

"Dreamless Sleep Potion," Snape replied laconically and added a little more sharply, "Beg you pardon."

The Headmaster sighed heavily. "You have nothing to apologize for, my dear boy. I am sorry…"

"What's going on, Albus?" Snape interrupted.

"Voldemort. He seems to have entered Harry's mind again and locked the boy in a nightmare. Poppy had woken up because he cried and called for his mother. She tried to wake him up, but to no avail, then she sent for me." Dumbledore carefully touched Harry's cheek, wet with tears; the boy moved a little and sniffed. "I have tried everything, but he just doesn't wake up."

"Why cannot you simply block the intruder out?"

"Because Voldemort is deep inside, so he can shuffle images and events as a storyteller, ruling his own fantasy world. If I break in from outside and destroy the trap, it can cost the boy his sanity because now he lives in Voldemort's imaginary space, which is more real to him than ours. Severus, there is only one way out."

"Meaning?.."

"You have to get into Harry's mind and change that dream-reality for him."

"I?.."

"Who else?"

"You, for one," the Potions Master pointed out dryly.

The Headmaster shook his head. "You know the Dark Lord's mind ways much better than I, and he should not realize that someone has interfered. Besides…" Dumbledore interrupted himself because Harry moaned again, rolling his head heavily over his hot pillow. "Severus, for Merlin's sake, don't lose any more time!"

"And how do you see the process itself?" the Potions Master inquired darkly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "A duel on fairy-tales with the greatest legilimentor of the wizardry world, yourself excluded?"

"Severus, that's a brilliant idea!" Apparently Dumbledore decided to not notice the irony. "Transform this nightmare into a fairy-tale with a happy-end. And be careful."

Snape snorted, "Your trust in my abilities is just amazing, Albus."

"It's well-based, is it not?" The headmaster squeezed the young professor's shoulder lightly.

The Potions Master murmured something indecipherable and covered Harry's hand with his palm:

_"Legilimens Praesentarium Occlusus."_

**xxx**

It never ceased to amaze him how a dream-reality felt. So vivid, so responsive… so hard to predict. Well, the latter was not the case at the moment – trust the Dark Lord to choose the most sensitive spot…

Snape let himself dissolve and disappear – no name, just a fleeting feeling; no person, just a spark of will; no personality, just a principle, influencing this Universe.

/A duel on fairy-tales? Accepted./

**xxx**

...Once upon a time in a dark, gloomy city there lived a small and very lonely boy named Harry. His parents had been killed by unknown monsters when he was still a toddler, therefore the City Council considered it the best to pass him over to his mother's relatives, who, of course, were not particularly happy with such a nuisance as a nasty and silly boy.

_However Harry was neither nasty, nor silly. On the contrary, he was a nice child..._ /Uhm… more or less… Yes, a nice child. Don't jump, Potter, look in a mirror! You see?../ _But very few people got close enough to notice it. And that was also a reason why nobody had noticed how and when he learned... to draw pictures. And so, by the way, the city did not look so gloomy to Harry. In the morning the bright sun gilded tower spikes and metal fencings, scattered cheerful spots of light through stained-glass windows and warmed up old stones, which could tell many fascinating stories; and at night bright stars exchanged playful winks with lanterns..._

_Harry enjoyed wandering the streets with his album…_

…but he was very lonely, nevertheless, because nobody loved the boy, and he had no friend…

_…except for a small black kitten that lived in the attic. /No! Nobody offended that creature. And nobody hit it, either / The kitten's name was Coal; it followed Harry everywhere and slept by his side._

Meanwhile, the relatives were getting really tired of the boy, so they looked for any possible way to get rid of him. And as it was especially dangerous in the city at night, they used any pretext to send Harry out of the house into darkness...

_But Harry always carried a small lantern with him. And he was not afraid of darkness because Coal always accompanied him._

One day (one evening, to be precise) the boy was sent to a workshop, situated very far from home, to collect his uncle's watch. The streets were dark and daunting - they seemed to be like a multi-headed monster's gullets, ready to swallow Harry.

_However the boy and his kitten loved the old city and were not afraid to lose their way._

Suddenly Harry realized they had come to an absolutely unfamiliar place. Of course, he immediately felt…

_…slightly ill at ease, but at the same time the boy got curious – everything looked strange and unusual. Moreover, soon he found out that he wasn't touching the ground, as if walking up some invisible hill, higher and higher on._

From the height the city seemed still gloomier and less friendly than usual.

_But just above Harry's head – as if within the reach! – there was a velvet curtain of the night sky, embroidered with silver stars, shining warmly._

Harry could not see the path he was treading, and all of a sudden he felt about to fall down…

_…but Coal mewed vigorously and ran forward, his fluffy tail high and proud._

*Harry couldn't help smiling and ran after his kitten. *

/Good for you, Potter. High time to cooperate./

They went deeper and deeper into darkness…

_…until the invisible road brought them to a star._

*"It's impossible," Harry thought, at a loss. "Stars are like planets… or suns... something like that. And in the space there is no air, only vacuum, and now I'll suffocate!.."*

_But nothing terrible happened, he breathed easily and freely, and in front of him a big sphere rocked, shining gently. Having hesitated for a minute, the boy stepped onto a blue surface and immediately heard a soft silvery voice, "Welcome, Harry! I have been waiting for you."_

*" Who are you?" Harry asked.*

_"I am a Star. No, not a sun, just a Star. In the days of yore everyone had his or her Star, but then people ceased to believe that we exist, they confused us with those stars, which are there in the space... Do you want me to be your Star, Harry?"_

*"Impossible," Harry thought. "A Star – for me?.. Impossible…"*

_"I can hear what you think. If I had not been your Star, you would not have found the road here. Look, Coal also knows that I am yours," the Star laughed quietly because the kitten was purring contentedly._

*Harry laughed, too, and bent down to pat Coal with one hand and the Star with the other.*

_"Now you should return home, Harry, it's your bed-time. But if you ever feel blue or lonely, just glance up and you'll see me. I'll always be here for you."_

*"Thank you!" Harry breathed out, though no word of thanks seemed able to express his gratitude. "Thank you!*

_"You are welcome. Good night!"_

_The Star sent a blue light beam to the ground far beneath them; the beam solidified, and Harry slid down, as if from the ice hill. When the boy looked around, he saw the watch workshop just in front of him._

*Harry came in, took the watch from the master and ran home. *

_And the Star floated above his head, accompanying the boy to the very wicket-gate._

BUT when Harry tried to open the house door, he found it locked. And no one answered him, although he knocked, and knocked, and knocked.

_Harry had no time to get really frightened or upset because Coal touched his knee with its paw and mewed, reminding him that the boy was not alone._

*"Well, I always wished to leave them," Harry thought. "And now I will!" He put the watch on a porch, placed Coal inside his jacket and started out.*

He wandered and wandered until he found himself in a kingdom, where all people were unfriendly and moody. And they definitely didn't like strangers.

/Fine. Let's get to the core./ 

_Nevertheless, Harry managed to talk with a passer-by, who explained that spiteful tswergs, which are related to trolls remotely, had stolen a magic Tapestry of Dreams, that's why the people there could have nightmares only; no wonder, they were in low spirits. And the Star whispered to Harry, "You can help this people, if you wish."_

*"How?" the boy asked eagerly.*

_"You will draw good dreams, and I'll make them alive."_

*Harry agreed with no doubt. He trusted his Star's words completely.*

_The boy was directed to the king's palace. The king was wise enough not to throw a chance away with his own hands, so he showed to Harry, where the wondrous Tapestry had hung before._

*"I'll try to find it," Harry promised. "But now I'll try to create a Painting of Dreams for you."*

_The young painter mixed the inks, the Star added a drop of its light to them, and Harry began to draw on a wall. In three days he called the king again._

"Where are dreams?" the king asked impatiently. "The canvas is as black as a moonless and starless night. "

_"Let's wait till twilight, your majesty," Harry answered._

_The king agreed, and as soon as it started to darken, thin silvery lines appeared on the canvas; the blackness gradually gave way to bright yet tender colors, and then dreams started to descend from the canvas and to take off for a window... Harry and the king waited all the night long, and by the morning the dreams came back and merged with the canvas again. The king called for his Minister and asked, whether he has dreams that night. And the Minister joyfully confirmed he had the most wonderful dream in his life. The king laughed with pleasure and asked Harry what reward the boy would like to get._

*Harry replied that no reward was necessary. "Besides, I am still to find the Tapestry."*

/Potter-r-r-rh!.../ 

_"You shouldn't go to the tswergs'," the king frowned. "It's dangerous; they are worse than trolls."_

*"But I promised you I would try," Harry objected. "How can I find the tswergs?"*

/Stupid child…/ 

_"If your decision is firm, you 'll be shown to the wool ball workshop, where they will give you a wool ball that will lead you to your destination."_

_The owner of the workshop also tried to persuade Harry not to go to the tswergs'._

*But the boy was adamant about his wish to find the Tapestry.*

_Eventually the owner sighed and gave a ball of silky black threads to Harry._

*Saying goodbye, Harry couldn't restrain his curiosity and asked, "What about all those magic wool balls in fairy-tales? Are they all from your workshop?"*

_"Not all of them, but for the most part they are," the owner confirmed. "To make such a thread is not easy, true masters are few."_

*Harry thanked the owner, threw the ball onto the ground and followed its lead.*

_By the evening he came to a huge black rock. The ball hit the rock and vanished, and Harry saw pale contours of a gate appear on the wrinkled stone surface. He knocked twice, and the gate opened, creaking magnificently._

Harry found himself in a dark and seemingly endless tunnel.

_He hugged Coal closer to his chest and moved forward carefully. It was a very long tunnel, indeed, but finally the boy reached a big empty hall, lit dimly with torches. And the first thing Harry saw on the wall just opposite the entrance was a marvelous tapestry, colourful and shining like a summer dewed meadow._

*Fascinated, Harry stepped closer to it... *

…and all of a sudden the hall shook with roaring laughter.

*Harry jumped and turned around.*

The hall was full of tswergs, big and ugly. One of them grabbed a torch and set the tapestry on fire.

"Here you are, Harry," the biggest tswerg, probably a leader, rasped triumphantly. "We knew, one of you will come for the Tapestry."

*"One of us?.." Harry repeated involuntarily.*

"One of those, who speaks with these disgusting Stars," the tswerg snorted. "There are few of you, but enough to disturb us and the likes of us. But now the people will not have good dreams, and we have caught you. That's great!"

_"You are wrong," Harry objected, "the people will have nice dreams, I have created the Painting, and now, after you have burned the Tapestry, all the dreams will come to dwell in the Painting, and they will be even richer and brighter, because the Painting will inherit the magic of the Tapestry."_

The tswergs didn't like the idea and burst in angry cries, but their leader gestured for them to be silent and looked at Harry maliciously, "So be it, but we'll steal the Painting, too."

*"You won't," Harry said, relieved. "It is painted on a wall."

"Well," the tswerg roared, "in any case you will certainly not leave our dungeons – ever!"

They clutched Harry and dragged him to the deepest vault, where no light could be seen.

_However the tswergs hadn't caught Coal, and the kitten managed to make his way to the boy._ /No, no chains… Just a vault… Quite dry and not too cold… And no tools, just plain walls.../ _Meanwhile… meanwhile the Star called to its kin – for help, and in several days a duo came to the kingdom, where the Tapestry had been stolen. The newcomers were a boy and a girl. They found out, where the workshop of the magic wool balls was situated and went straight there. Of course, the owner tried to persuade them not to go, but all his words were in vain. So the boy and the girl received a leading ball and a lot of sighs in addition._

_The gate swung open before them, and soon they were in the same hall, where Harry had been captured._

The tswergs surrounded them instantly…

_…but the leader barely had time to finish his speech as the girl inquired, "Are you sure you have taken everything in consideration, when planning this operation?"_

The tswerg frowned and hissed menacingly, "If you mean, whether I have considered too talkative captives, you will get a chance to tell everything you want in the dungeons."

_"Great," the boy nodded enthusiastically. "That's the place we really have to see."_

The tswergs were somewhat puzzled, but the leader has bellowed an order, and the duo was taken downwards.

*Harry was very much upset, after he had seen the new captives; he felt immediately that they had the Stars, too, and that meant they had got there because of him!*

_"Hallo, Harry," the girl greeted him at once. "My name is Hermione, and this is Ron." Before anyone had time to utter a word, she turned to the tswergs and said, "If you were more interested in books and less in your stupid games, you would know that it is impossible to keep even two people, who have a Star, against their will, if they weave the Stars' beams together. And we are three, not just two!" Hermione and Ron seized Harry's hands and grasped each other's palms, completing a circle. Right away three bluish rays of light shot upwards from each pair of clasped hands. The rays interweaved above their heads, creating one powerful beam, which penetrated the ceiling and rushed to the sky. Before the tswergs understood what was transpiring in the dungeon, the three ex-captives glided up – to where their three Stars floated, almost touching their sides._

*"I didn't know that was possible!" Harry breathed out, still not quite himself after that unexpected rescue.* 

_"Well, neither did we," Ron admitted, smiling sheepishly. "But Hermione though that if it was feasible at all, then it had to be done in that way."_

*"Thanks you!" Harry whispered.* 

_"You are welcome," Hermione replied, beaming. "And now let's go home and have breakfast before going to classes."_

_And the foursome, Coal included, went… well, at first they went home... to drink tea... with fruitcakes and chocolate frogs... And then… then there were many adventures, waiting ahead. And they lived long... and happily… ever after. **Long and happily, I say!..**_

**xxx**

...The hearing was the first to return - someone called his name again and again, in a ridiculously anxious tone of voice. Then he felt something warm touch his cheek. A palm?.. Someone squeezed his hand so tightly it was almost painful.

"Severus?.."

He opened his eyes and studied crossroads of white strings for a long moment. A blanket cover.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster?" The words did get out. Rather weak and hoarse, but audible and distinct enough.

He lifted his head. Harry was sound asleep, his elbow under his cheek. This disheveled little monster was smiling slightly and snuffling softly. The Potions Master accurately liberated his fingers from the boy's palm and leaned on a bed-rail to rise. The next moment he was hugged inconsiderately; the embrace smelled with lemon drops, reflections of sunlight and some other cosy nonsense.

"May I assume the fairy-tale has got a happy-end?" Snape queried dryly, allowing himself for a second to go limp in this warmth, but straightening up right away.

Before answering Dumbledore peered into him inquisitively, as if making out something written in an intricate handwriting on the iris of his eye; than the Headmaster smiled, "More than that, my boy, more than that. Would you join me for an early breakfast?"

The Potions Master nodded and raised a somewhat amused eyebrow. "Yes, of course, I will tell you everything."

"You should have humoured an old man and pretended not to understand my carefully hidden reasons," the Headmaster said jokingly, but his smile was rueful.

"Next time," Snape promised as he looked at the sleeping boy briefly and turned to the door. The Headmaster joined him, and they immersed in the dusk of the school corridors.

Once in his office, Dumbledore ordered breakfast for two, which had become a certain tradition by the time, and the Potions Master muttered, "Breakfast for one and a half," by way of correction that also was traditional… As usual, the house elf just grinned happily and arranged a feast. And it was just as customary that the most of the courses remained untouched. These early breakfasts certainly deserved better than that, but… Severus sipped his tea and cut this line of thought off.

Dumbledore stirred his tea slowly and glanced at the professor expectantly. Snape put his cup down on the table and once again transformed into a storyteller. When finished, he fixed the Headmaster in a piercing stare, challenging him to comment on details. Fortunately Dumbledore seemed to know better than that, although he had a rather strange look on his face while listening.

"Do you think Voldemort has guessed Harry was not his opponent in fact?"

The Potions Master winced a little. "I am sure he hasn't recognized me, and I am almost sure he hasn't detected any interference at all because I weaved the dream on the foundation of Potter's own positive energy sources. Until the last interaction, to be precise." Snape interlaced his fingers and glanced up. "I don't like it, Albus. Not one little bit."

Dumbledore placed his cup aside.

"Anything in particular?"

"Yes. And no." The Potions Master closed his eyes for a moment, as if re-playing the whole 'fairy-tale' mentally. "At first it was quite like fencing, he attacked, I parried. It was fast. So fast actually that the dream-reality blurred a little. Then he just stepped back and let me weave almost freely - only to deliver enormously powerful, but very primitive blows from time to time. Just fear and darkness, nothing subtle. Well, he did try something more complicated, but I happened to have anchored the counterbalances early enough." He paused and considered another cup of tea, but decided against it. "Voldemort's last explosion was the worst, though absolutely devoid of any image – pure brutality to shatter that Universe. The crash of those proportions would have had… rather unpleasant consequences for the dreamer, so I simply shielded that world." His lips curled in a sardonic smile, which instantly disappeared. "And then he was gone. All I had to do was to close all the doors and to finish the episode for Potter with a spiral way to some better dream of his own." He paused again. Dumbledore waited patiently and was rewarded in a couple of minutes. "In general it was too easy," Snape said softly.

The Headmaster raised his eyebrows. "Really, Severus… Your definition of 'easy' is slightly off, isn't it?"

Snape snorted. "It wouldn't seem so, if you took into account that 'easy' doesn't really mean 'effortless'. But I wonder…" his voice trailed off.

"Voldemort definitely couldn't have foreseen the level of resistance you provided," Dumbledore mused aloud. "He had no strategy to match yours. So he relied on sheer strength. It wasn't enough. Whether he thought that Harry had managed on his own or understood someone had protected the boy, Voldemort will hardly try this very trick again."

"What about its variations?" the Potions Master asked acidly.

"I do tell you the boy should learn occlumency," Dumbledore sighed. "But you have incorporated an impressive number of defenses into Harry's mental self. He will remember that dream, won't he?"

"Yes," Severus confirmed reluctantly.

The Headmaster smiled. "I think they will prove helpful not only in his sleep."

"That boy has the most undisciplined mind I have ever worked with," Snape diagnosed.

"Now, now, Severus," the Headmaster admonished. "We shall speak about it later. By the way, I have meant to ask you for a long time already, why you never mention a Master of Dreams among your degrees? It is one of the Higher Arts – and a rare one, at that…"

Snape shrugged. "What for? It is really more like an art than a science because it is impossible to achieve repeatable and objectively provable results. Too many personal factors are involved, and too few universal methods are available. Besides," he added sarcastically, "do you really think I am jealous of Sybil's laurels? I don't think any students, save Miss Granger, perhaps, would even suspect it's not about interpretation of dreams."

Dumbledore chuckled mildly. "If you say so. And now you should rest."

"I have classes to teach," Snape objected, rising.

The Headmaster shook his head reproachfully, but didn't argue with the professor. When Snape was at the door already, Dumbledore called for him again. "Severus!"

"Yes, Albus?" he responded, pivoting on his heels.

"You have proved to be an admirable Fairy Godmother, my dear boy," Dumbledore said innocently, warm sparkles dancing slyly in his eyes.

The Potions Master presented the Headmaster with a scathing look, turned around sharply and strode out to terrify the students. A new day at Hogwarts was about to begin.


End file.
